Home
by ZilSepam
Summary: This place would never be Sarah's home, for home was where blue eyes and and a smile as bright as sunshine waited for her.


Home

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They arrived at the 'hospital' grounds in the early hours of the morning. She couldn't tell if it was her nerves or lack of sleep that caused her to feel light-headed. The smell of the area wasn't helping; it wreaked of sweat, blood and alcohol.

The doctor showed them around briefly; the amount of soldiers and civilians coming in was overwhelmingly persistent. They were brought to their quarters quickly. It was a decent sized tent, with makeshift-looking beds and other poorly made furnishings.

"Here's your home away from home." the man tried to joke, but his gruff voice didn't help bring a comical ring to the poorly executed quip.

When he left, Sarah collapsed. Urey just barely caught her in his arms, cradling her to his chest as she sobbed on the barren desert floor.

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There wasn't enough time in the day or night to sleep. Doctors were scarce, and despite the fact that surgeons were supposed to take twelve hour shifts, everyone was working twenty-four hours a day. Breaks only occurred when soldiers weren't pouring in on stretchers, and that was next to never.

Her body ached for sleep, and her heart ached for home. When she looked above her at the faded tarp, she wanted nothing more than to tear it down; to end the senseless need to be where she was, saving people that didn't need to be in the position to be saved. She couldn't understand why this war was happening, but until every soldier could go home, and every Ishvalan was safe form a gun or a dog, she would stay and help. They deserved to be home, too, and she'd be damned if she and her husband would turn their backs on them.

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More doctors came to help the cause, but the amount of injured and dying that flowed in was still overwhelming. There were barely enough beds to rest the soldiers and civilians, so many of the doctors offered their own, including Sarah and Urey.

During the nights when they had time to rest, they would lie on their blankets placed upon the floor, grasping each other tightly. Sometimes they slept, sometimes they made love, but every night Urey would whisper that this wasn't permanent, that someday they'd be home. She would cling tightly to him as he did so, praying that he was right.

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The war felt endless, the amount of death and blood seemed infinite. Every doctor in their unit had gone numb, and it drove Sarah to the brink of insanity. It didn't matter how many people came into their surgery room, they were all people, and dammit they needed to be helped! It ripped at her heart to see her comrades wave away dying men and women, even children, claiming that 'there was nothing that could be done'.

This war had claimed so many, but it wouldn't claim her. This battleground was not going to take her. It would never be her home. For home was a place where brilliant blue eyes and a smile as bright as sunshine was waiting for her.

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She was late, nearly three weeks late, and she was terrified. Her body was frail; she had lost so much weight since arriving at this damned place, she didn't know if she could carry a baby. She tried to calm herself, to rationalize that her high stress levels and lack of body fat was the cause, but something inside of her whispered she was wrong. She needed to talk to Urey. Perhaps, if she was, they could go home. The war was supposedly ending, maybe the injured would stop pouring in, maybe they really could go home.

She was helping a patient, he was bleeding so badly. She tried to bandage his face, hoping he wouldn't bleed out. Once this round of injured was taken care of, they could switch off with the other doctors that stayed to help. They could go back to their tent and she could tell him.

The man woke up. She worried about his pain, and tried to calm him down, telling him his wounds were too bad for him to move.

She called for Urey, he looked him over, and they called for the other doctors to start working on him immediately.

They were explaining the patients' conditions as they prepared to leave, and Sarah couldn't stop thinking about what could be, about the possibility of going home.

Someone called their name, Urey pulled her to his chest, and, God, did she hurt. She hurt so bad.

She was dying, she knew she wouldn't make it.

Urey was already gone. She tried to weep for him, but only blood came out.

The war won, despite her never-ending fight, despite her prayers to see home once more, she was going to die in a wasteland of lost hope. She tried to lift a hand to her stomach, but she couldn't move.

Whatever might have been there, be it a baby or a dream, was dead.

She let out her last breath, thinking of blue eyes and a laugh that could only belong to an angel.

Her last thought was of her daughter.

Her last thought was of home.

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End file.
